Picture of You
by XDracoMalfoysGirlX
Summary: Harry says goodbye to Severus Snape and reflects on how he got everything wrong. "I had a picture of you in my mind, never knew it could be so wrong"- based on the song Picture of You by Boyzone


Picture Of You

_Didn't they say that I would make a mistake  
Didn't they say you were gonna be trouble_

Harry Potter sighed heavily and ran a hand through his already messy black hair. He glared at his reflection in the oval mirror that sat on the wall in the bathroom at The Burrow. He looked tired, and Harry would admit that he felt tired too. Not through lack of sleep, just generally tired with the world, with everything he had been through and everyone he had lost.

Mostly though, Harry found himself thinking about his most hated teacher in his career at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry: Professor Severus Snape. Harry felt extremely guilty when he thought about Snape. He remembered vividly how he had decided right from the very start, before he had ever really spoken with Snape, that the man was a bad lot, and all because he was in Slytherin. Didn't they say that all bad wizard's came from Slytherin? And Snape had taken the Dark Mark, he had served Voldemort during the first war; Harry shook his head slightly, he had believed himself to know more, to know better than Albus Dumbledore where Snape was concerned; how egotistical and naïve he was.

_People told me you were too much to take  
I could see it, I didn't wanna know_

Harry remembered attending Hogwarts for the first time. He remembered how all the other students had told him about Snape. What a rotten teacher he was, how mean he could be, how stingy he was with his marking and how he was so biased towards his own house, Slytherin, that it defied belief for a professor.

Harry had readily agreed. Snape hadn't exactly been friendly towards him, had he? He'd been positively dreadful, blaming Harry for everything that his father, James Potter, had put him through during Snape's time at school. As if it was Harry's fault! Even now, Harry couldn't help but glower at the injustice of that blame. After all, he wasn't even born then!

Fiddling with the knot of his black tie at the base of his throat, Harry straightened the tie to his satisfaction and squared his shoulders determinedly. Snape had been a lot to handle during school time, always on his case about something or other, and Harry knew he had let other people's opinion of Snape help to shape his own because Snape was so snarky towards him. In spite of Hermione constantly stating that if Dumbledore trusted Snape there had to be something good in him, Harry hadn't wanted to see it.

"Never even looked though, did you?" he accused his reflection.

Turning, Harry left the bathroom and made his way through the quiet hallway of The Burrow and down into the kitchen. The kitchen was oddly silent, even though it was filled with Weasley's. Fred's death was still too fresh, too painful to allow idle chatter and laughter to fill the air at the moment.

Everyone was in black, Harry noted, nothing new there. For the last week, he, along with everyone else, had done nothing but wear black; attending one funeral after another. The funeral of Remus and Tonks had been bad. Harry had come away feeling lost and alone. Holding little Teddy in his arms afterwards Harry had made a silent promise to look after him, to be a good godfather to the little boy, just as Sirius would have been to him, should he had lived.

Fred's funeral had been even worse. A young life cut short. George had been the hardest one to look at, a washed out version of himself, standing close to Percy, taking comfort from a brother he hadn't really had a close relationship with over the last few years, but both were united in the loss of a family member, someone they loved, a bright spark in the Weasley family that had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

Today, Harry sat himself down at the kitchen table next to Ron, who was stirring a spoon absently around in his teacup; well, today was going to be the worst. Harry knew it, he could feel it in his bones.

Today he was burying Severus Snape, and Harry wanted to cry for Snape most of all.

_I let you in and you let me down_

Harry's emerald green eyes glazed over as his mind wandered back, almost against his will, and remembered how, in his third year at Hogwarts, the year he had met Remus and Sirius for the first time, he had also discovered Remus' little secret. Remus had turned, changed into a werewolf in front of him, Hermione and Ron, and for one horrifying moment, Harry had thought his time was up. But Snape, dressed head to toe in black as usual, his robes billowing about him had stood in front of them, shielding his students like the cape crusader.

It was then, Harry mused, that he thought maybe Snape wasn't all that bad.

He still hadn't been thrilled when Dumbledore had told him that it was Snape who would be giving him private lessons when he returned to school for his fifth year, but, he had trusted in Dumbledore's wisdom and submitted to having his mind assaulted by Snape on a weekly basis.

His face twisted into a grimace. Snape had been relentless, unmerciful, in his attacks and again, he had ended up laying blame at Harry's door for something that had happened to him before he, Harry, was even born. After all the trust Dumbledore had put in Snape, all the respect the Head Master had shown for the potions master, Harry had, strangely, felt a bit let down by Snape when he still remained cold, mean and blameful towards him. For some reason, Harry had assumed that relations with Snape would thaw somewhat, although he didn't think for a moment that he would ever have a good relationship with Snape, Harry had at least thought he would be able to see what Dumbledore saw when he looked at Snape.

"Tea, Harry?" Hermione's soft voice broke into Harry's thoughts.

He glanced up at his friend, she had pulled her frizzy hair back off her face into a tight braid today, she looked smart, dignified in her black suit and crisp white blouse, and for some stupid reason Harry thought that Snape would approve. He'd like everyone to look presentable for his funeral. It showed some measure of respect, didn't it?

"No thank you," his voice came out as a croak and Harry cleared his throat.

"Are you sure? Something to eat maybe?" Hermione pressed.

"No," Harry responded through grit teeth. He couldn't take Hermione's kindness today. He was teetering right on the very edge as it was, it wouldn't take much to push him over.

_You pushed me up and you turned my whole life around  
I could feel that I had no where to go_

Resting his head in his hands, his eyes fixed on the worn wooden tabletop, Harry took a steadying breath as memories of Dumbledore's death assailed him. How he had hated Snape at that moment. The hate, the desire for revenge had burnt inside him like a scorching fire as he had pounded through Hogwarts after Snape, wanting only to get into firing range, wanting only to hurt Snape as Snape had taken Dumbledore away, leaving him, Harry all alone, with no wise adult to turn to. Dumbledore was meant to know everything, he had been the one to whom Harry had expected to always be able to turn to for advice, for help, for protection even; and thanks to Snape, he had been left in the deep dark abyss all on his own, with the entire wizarding world pinning their hopes on him, expecting him to rise to the occasion.

_I was alone, how was I too know that..  
You'll be there, when I needed somebody_

Lost and alone in the wilderness. All idea's gone. Ron gone. Hermione in bits. No plan. Just him, Harry, with the weight of the world on his young shoulders.

_You'll be there, the only one who can help me_

The silver doe. Not his mother. Not his father. Not a ghost. Severus Snape.

Never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed it was Snape and Harry knew it. Someone who he hated with a passion; someone Harry believed despised him, had in fact been a sort of Guardian Angel to him. Watching over him from afar, helping Dumbledore to help him from beyond the grave.

Harry shook his head, tears stinging his eyes.

_I had a picture of you in my mind  
never knew it could be so wrong_  
_Why'd it take me so long just to find  
the friend that was there all along._

"It's time to go," Molly Weasley came into the kitchen, Percy trudging along behind her pulling a trilby cap onto his head. "Come along everyone. Ron, tuck in your shirt."

Ron didn't complain, he just stood up and did as he was told, submitting to Hermione fussing over his tie and straightening the back of his jacket. "Look alright, do I, Hermione?"

"Yes. Just fine," Hermione assured him, picking up a long stem white rose from the vase on the kitchen counter.

"Why white?" Ron asked, taking the one rose that was left and examining it carefully. "Why is mine the one with the droopy head?"

"First come first served little brother," George replied, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"White for purity," Hermione said, shooting George an annoyed look.

"Purity?" Ron echoed thoughtfully.

The legs of Harry's chair scraped nosily against the floor as he pushed it back from the table. "For the purity of Severus' heart and his intentions. Something we knew nothing at all about," he said, forcing his voice to be calm, forcing himself to be calm.

"Shall we go, Harry?" Ginny asked quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, showing her silent support.

"Yes." Harry followed the Weasley's outside, and meekly submitted to Bill taking hold of his arm for side along apparation. Of course, Harry could apperate, he had passed his test, but it had been agreed that he would be taken to Snape's funeral. He hadn't agreed it, Harry had just gone along with the plan, the idea of fighting against it left Harry feeling exhausted merely thinking about it. He was so tired of fighting.

When they arrived at the Grave Yard in Godric's Hollow, Harry nodded his silent approval at the vast turn out for Snape. The kissing gate stood wide open, and Harry felt the lump in his throat, threatening tears, when he spotted the remaining members of the DA standing just inside the gate in two lines, creating a little walk way for the mourners. As he drew closer, Harry noticed that each member held a white rose and wore a Slytherin scarf around their necks and his tears burnt more fiercely behind his eyes.

"Hello, Harry," Luna Lovegood broke away from the line of ex-students and drifted to his side. She took his cold hand in her own and squeezed his fingers softly. "How do you like our scarves?"

Harry merely nodded, he didn't trust himself to speak. Today was indeed the hardest day he'd had to face since the end of the war. He'd had to do a lot of re-evaluation where Snape was concerned.

_Who'd believe that after all we've been through  
I'd be able to put my whole trust in you_

Harry couldn't help feeling guilty, especially today, about all the hate he had harbored towards a man who had done nothing but try to help him and keep him alive.

"Shall we say goodbye, Harry?" Luna asked, giving him a light tug forward.

Harry seemed to be on autopilot, he went where his feet took him, and his feet followed Luna. He had just passed through the kissing gate when his feet suddenly turned to anvils in his shoes and he couldn't seem to will himself forward. His fingers gripped Luna's tightly and a wave of sickness washed over him, causing his head to swim and his eyes to water.

"You lot go on," Luna said to Neville who was following behind them with Ron and Hermione. "We'll catch you up."

Hermione's eyebrows drew together in a concerned frown. "Perhaps we should stay with him," she said, waving a hand back and forth between herself and Ron.

"No, no." Luna said, shaking her head so that the radishes in her ears danced merrily. "We need someone up there to represent Harry, until he gets there I mean, and you two are the next best thing."

Hermione nodded. "Alright, we'll wait for you."

Luna took Harry to one side and he watched through his lashes, his head bowed, as Hermione proceeded forward with Ron and Neville on either side of her. The Weasley's fell into step behind them with the DA bringing up the rear.

"It was a lovely idea, Harry; having Professor Snape laid to rest near your mother. I think he'll like that," Luna said conversationally.

"Hope so," Harry mumbled. He was glad that it was Luna who had elected herself to stay behind with him. Somehow, Harry felt he could cope with Luna's silent presence better than anyone else. Luna had a soothing effect on him, her natural positive nature keeping him from slumping into complete doom and gloom.

_Goes to show you can't forgive and forget  
looking back, I have no regrets cause…_

The idea to bury Snape near to his best friend, his one true love, Lily Potter, had come to Harry like a blinding flash. Didn't Snape deserve the best, deserve something good after giving his life the way that he had? Harry thought so, and somehow he knew Lily would agree with him. Harry felt that even James Potter couldn't complain about having Snape resting nearby for eternity, not after knowing exactly what Snape had done for his son.

"Forgive and forget," Harry whispered, sniffing slightly.

"What did you say, Harry?"

"Talking to my dad," Harry replied, knowing that Luna wouldn't think that strange.

"I'm sure he has forgiven and forgotten everything that passed between him and Professor Snape. After all, Professor Snape was always on your side, wasn't he."

Harry nodded, "Yeah. But, I haven't. Forgiven and forgotten I mean." Harry growled irritably in the back of his throat. "I can't forgive all the nasty, petty, spiteful things I thought about Snape over the years. I can't forget the hate, the wish I had for him to be as dead as Dumbledore."

_You will be there, when I needed somebody  
You will be there, the only one to help me_

Luna sighed softly. "You can't keep punishing yourself about Professor Snape, you weren't meant to know the truth until the end. That was the only way he and Dumbledore could keep you safe."

"Yeah," Harry said quietly, "And maybe he's happier where he is now."

"Maybe," Luna agreed.

The soft rhythmic sound of horses hooves crunching on the gravel brought Harry's head up and he watched the sleek, glossy black horses pull up to a stop outside the kissing gates. Harry's chin jerked violently, his throat closing as he stared at the smooth wooden coffin sitting silently behind the glass of her hearse.

"It's time, Harry," Luna told him, her voice gentle and firm.

Her fingers began to slip through his as she prepared to go and take her place with the other members of the DA and Arthur Weasley, George, Ron and Neville came forward, the elected coffin bearers.

Harry tightened his hold on Luna's fingers so swiftly, so hard, that she gave a small gasp of pain. "Stay with me," his voice was thick and rough, scratching the back of his throat.

Luna didn't reply, she didn't need to; she merely moved closer to him, standing shoulder to shoulder with him, staving off the icy feelings of guilt and loss.

Arthur, George, Ron and Neville eased Snape out of the hearse, white lilies sat on top of the coffin and they shouldered the latest headmaster of Hogwarts carefully, standing just outside the gate, waiting for Harry to take his place at the front and lead them to the graveside.

_I had a picture of you in my mind  
Never knew it could be so wrong_

Swallowing reflexively, Harry moved to take up his position, slowly, he put one foot in front of the other and managed to walk forward, focusing his eyes straight ahead through the mourners, avoiding the open grave and concentrating on the word "friend" which had been created out of white roses and stood at the center of the flowers display in pride of place.

_Why'd it take me so long just to find  
the friend that was there all along  
_


End file.
